


Mardy Bum

by TheWaitingFangirl



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Boredom, Chicken Soup, Cold, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, taking care of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaitingFangirl/pseuds/TheWaitingFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You moaned theatrically, surfing through the channels at the TV. The couch was too stiff, the blanket wasn’t warm enough and your head felt like it was going to explode. What happened to that Garfield cartoon? Ugh. Not to mention your running nose, which was already burning at its sides from the amount of times you have blown it. And dear god, there is nothing good on TV!</p><p>Wonderful you thought, hand falling and letting the controller slip from your grip to the floor. I’m going to die because of a cold and boredom. You honestly didn’t know which one was the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mardy Bum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvaWhiteRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaWhiteRaven/gifts).



> Just a small gift to amazing Ava to spoil her. Because she deserves tooooooooooooo *throws confetti at her*

You moaned theatrically, surfing through the channels at the TV. The couch was too stiff, the blanket wasn’t warm enough and your head felt like it was going to explode.  _What happened to that Garfield cartoon? Ugh._ Not to mention your running nose, which was already burning at its sides from the amount of times you have blown it. And  _dear god, there is nothing good on TV!_

 _Wonderful_  you thought, hand falling and letting the controller slip from your grip to the floor.  _I’m going to die because of a cold and boredom._ You honestly didn’t know which one was the worst.

“I should take a picture of you right now.” You heard Connor’s voice coming from the kitchen. “You look like you have a terminal illness.” He was bowing over the counter, clearly preparing something, an amused smirk on his lips.

You snickered at his comment “Are you done there? I’m hungry.”

“What am I, your maid?” The man mumbled more to himself, making you giggle.

“Oh, aren’t you a dramatic one?” You rearranged yourself against the pillow, trying to get more comfortable. “You offered yourself to take care of me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.” Connor retorted, some clinking coming from the cupboard. What was he doing anyway? You asked only for chicken soup, it wasn’t that hard. “But you have a cold, not dying…” He appeared with a humorous grin, holding a wooden tray — one that was so old that you couldn’t even remember when you got it in the first place. “Yet you act like it.” He mocked, setting it at the coffee table. There it was, a mug with blended chicken soup, a glass of orange juice and toasts.

Everything was perfectly organized, you mused. Even the napkin was methodically ducked below the spoon.

Connor approached; petting your head and pushing a few loosen strands back before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to measure the temperature. “Now  _you_  are acting like I may die” You mocked, leaning against his warm hand and sighing.

The man chuckled and cupped your face, making you look up at him while he rubbed a small circle with his thumb on your cheek. “Are you going to let me do my job or not?” He questioned, arching an eyebrow at you. You smiled up at him, shuffling around to make sure he’d sit beside you. Connor smirked, those big puppy eyes looking at you with a bit of worry before sitting and pulling the coffee table next to the couch.

“So…” He leaned towards the mug, holding it carefully, dipping the spoon in it. “Tell me if my cooking abilities are good enough for your refined taste,  _ma'am._ ” Connor smiled again when you took the mug from his hands, a sassy smirk on your lips.

“I’ll let you know, big guy.” You chuckled, letting the hot content of the mug warm your cold hands. You could get used to have someone taking care of you — if it were to be Connor, probably spoiling would be more suitable.


End file.
